Shuck
by Occultics
Summary: Elle lost a friend who'd seemingly vanished off the face of the earth years ago but yet he still shadows the corners of her mind—what happens when he suddenly comes back one day, and not with good news but of dangers that's been plaguing him his entire life? Will Elle run and hide or will she have the length to face what's in front of both of them? (In progress, may be rated M)


The hair on the back of Elle's neck stood erect, and the impending sensation of being watched set off the alarms at the back of her mind. Adjusting her pace, silently cursing at the drizzle that had started as soon as she'd exited the convenience store she pattered along. She couldn't figure out why she always felt like someone was watching her. Even when she was in her bedroom on Discord with Jen, it was always there and lately it's been interrupting her sleep schedule.

It all started when her best friend - and frankly, her childhood crush Silas - suddenly disappeared after a house party four years ago, raging and storming the trenches on a Saturday night. The two were sharing a joint on a bench beside a disheveled gnome they'd taken to naming Gnome Chompski, when Silas told her he was going away for a while in the morning. Elle assumed then it was a holiday - perhaps a trip to visit his relatives in British Columbia.

Silas had laughed then and there, and surprised her by fully kissing her on the lips.

"You've been a really good friend to me, Elle," he told her. "I love you and I'm going to miss you a lot."

Elle didn't register the increasing density of the sleet coming down in sheets, ignoring the shivers trailing down her spine. A left at the broken white fence, down the street and a right with the lawn that had a stupid decoration that excused itself as a doe. Almost home.

She was _absolutely_ dumbstruck then, telling him that she loved him as well, that missing her was confusing since they'd see each other again probably the next night. There, he'd given her a downtrodden smile, glanced at his phone, and told her he needed to go.

Watching him leave that party was the last time she - or anyone else for that matter, saw him. Apparently Silas had made it home but his father, passed out on the couch didn't see nor hear his return. When he went to go check on him the morning after, his room was abnormally clean with most of his belongings gone, minus his phone, and so was he. There was no indication of a note. Nothing about where he'd disappeared to or if he went with anyone. Just… Gone.

After that authorities were contacted and they did their best, or so they affirmed - a missing persons announcement was placed all over the small town. Ultimately, Silas was of legal age and was well within his rights to leave home and go wherever he damn well pleased. Elle couldn't blame him: they'd just turned 18 that year too.

But that was it, Silas Koehler had simply vanished. Four years ago.

Passing the foyer of her apartment complex, Elle went up a set of stairs, rounded a corner and went down the hall near to the end. Her hands were a little uneasy as she opened her door, still not entirely feeling secure. Someone - or something - was still out there. Watching her.

She placed the bag of snacks down on her kitchen counter, tousling her damp blonde hair as she went to go peel off her clothes in layers. First, her utility jacket, then, her sweater; her jeans were the last to come off, all abandoned beside her bedroom door haphazardly. Elle grabbed a pair of shorts from her drawers, pressed the power button on her PC and went to the washroom to wash her face before returning with snacks. Discord was immediately opened as was a ping from Jen. Before joining the voice channel she opened the window for cool air, then returned to her desktop to yelling that could be heard through the headset.  
"Who're you yelling at this time?" Elle asked mockingly.

Jen was quiet for a moment, "_this dumbass on my team doesn't know how to shoot!_"

She had to stifle a snicker for fear of her friend's wrath turning on her, instead keeping quiet and snipping insults alongside Jen's, waiting for her to finish the match.

"Hey," Jen's voice broke her from her thoughts, snapping back to attention.

"Hm?"

"You seem a little quieter tonight, is everything okay?"

Elle hesitated. "Yeah, just a lot on my mind plus I felt that someone was watching me again tonight," this wasn't the first night she'd come home like this and of course her best friend noticed.

"Oh, again? This is like, the fourth night this week, do you want to come over tomorrow?" Jen's keyboard could be heard in the background.

"Yeah it's been getting worse, like even when I'm at work I can kind of feel that feeling. Especially when I'm thinking about you-know-who." She sighed quietly. "But yeah, I'd like to come over tomorrow, I'll get some drinks for us after work."

"Okay, sounds good. I'll order some food for us, I'm sure that'll make you feel better!" Elle heard the optimism in her voice and she hoped to God it would.

A couple of hours passed with laughter and shenanigans, Elle's voice and throat feeling dry enough to signal an oncoming sickness. Saying goodbye to Jen, she signed off and made her way to bed.

She lay there in semi-darkness, that same feeling weighing down on her shoulders. Sleep wouldn't come easy tonight as it never had. Eyes tracing the corners of her blank walls, she thought about Si again and how stupid it was that he infiltrated almost every waking thought she had. She'd stopped trying to locate him, to contact him, to do anything with him at all long ago—maybe the police was right and maybe he didn't care for her after all.

Panic turned to anger, then resigned to sorrow and regret over the years. But that didn't mean she didn't miss him, no; sometimes when Jen was busy or when she didn't have anywhere to go she'd pop open a can of their favourite beer or put on a playlist they'd made together back then in his garage. Elle would remember his dumb jokes and sometimes dream of his laugh. Those were good dreams, but sometimes they weren't.

Then, without notice her phone buzzed on the dresser, giving her bedroom a strange sort of glow that accented the shadows, sending her jolting. Her dark eyebrows knitted together and thought it was probably Jen, not wanting to exit the safe, warm cocoon of blankets she'd curled up in. She'd check tomorrow morning. It probably wasn't that important, anyways—but she was wrong.

* * *

That night her mind curated terrifying images of the blackness outside of her window and of the barren, dense forest several feet away from her apartment. Sights of a little girl that looked oddly like her, with several familiar backdrops that consisted of a familiar playground and a brown, wooden fence her parents had installed when she was a child—why was she there? Dead branches suddenly snarled and wound around her mind, squeezing it to a pulp. Elle felt fear, a sudden urge to get away from whatever this was, roaring heads thundering in the distance and faraway jaws snapping and yowling; the atmospherics intensified as she was brought further into the entanglement of the trees.

The branches slithered along ever moving, never releasing their hold on her mind and the ground suddenly broke to reveal a tall, slim figure like the trees surrounding. The thunder and strange teeth seemed to quiet just then and Elle lost all breath at the sight before her: it was something her mind couldn't quite accept, but nonetheless elicited a primal instinct somewhere deep inside her, screaming to just get away—_**GETAWAYGETAWAYGETAWAYGETAWAY!**_

* * *

She awoke suddenly, jostling out of sleep so hard her bed creaked loudly and at this she gave a yelp, still not fully aware of her surroundings. The branches still felt like they were wound around her mind, squeezing around her heart the same. It was difficult to breathe and her dilated pupils jostled from the window sill to the picture frame on her wall to the door to her computer—just breathe. _Breathe_.

A certain name was stuck in her head, as was his favourite song and she wondered why if he had not made a single appearance in her dream, and in the waking moments she was currently in, she remembered a tall, slim figure like her father. But it didn't elicit the same warm, safe, homey feeling it did when she imagined her father; it was something far more sinister and she didn't like the sinking in her chest at the thought.

Confused and frankly still tired, Elle leaned back into her pillows and closed her eyes, continuing to breathe _slow. _Eventually she nearly dozed off but every time she did the figure was there shadowing the zany beginnings of her dreams, strengthening that intruding feeling in her chest and making her feel just, wrong. That dream was wrong.

She threw the pillows at the foot of her bed and started up the shower, breathing in the mist and clearing her mind before stepping in. Elle enjoyed long showers in the morning. It seemed to her a chance to clear out the bad thoughts and cleanse whatever nightmare residue that left an imprint away, and of course it was no exception for this morning, it was much needed more so today.

Elle pushed all thoughts of the dream she'd had to the back of her mind, instead focusing on the warm rivulets of water streaming down her back as she shampooed and conditioned her hair. There were more important things to worry about today, for example, an iced coffee.

She soaked a little while longer in the hot water before stepping out into the shivering cold and immediately cocooning herself in a towel, swearing under her breath. She'd forgotten to turn the heat on overnight and now it was like hell had frozen over in her little apartment, or so she'd thought — shit's always cold when one gets out of the shower.

After towelling herself dry and pulling on some soft clothing for the time being before she went out, her phone on her dresser caught her eye and she remembered Jen had texted her sometime in the wee hours of last night, probably raging again.

Elle gave a light chuckle at the thought and unlocked her phone, only to see a message from an unknown number containing only a tiny image of a gnome. Her blood ran cold and the phone clattered to the floor with an empty echo.

_Silas._


End file.
